


Philip Makes Friends

by biggayrhys



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Be warned though, Gen, He needs friends, M/M, Philip is Soft, Pointless fluff, eventual wraith/trapper but not like. a huge focus, friendfic, fuck you, im trans im going to write trans characters now thanks, its minor its ok, mute wraith, philip anna jed jake david and claudette are trans, read this fluff and cheer up, rin also needs friends so she's gonna show up too, slight reference to suicide attempt, this fandom is depressing, this is self indulgent i dont care, yes i know the title is stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22918885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggayrhys/pseuds/biggayrhys
Summary: i just think philip deserves friends. as a treat.
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Philip Ojomo | The Wraith, Philip Ojomo | The Wraith & Laurie Strode, philip ojomo & rin yamaoka
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	1. Laurie

Laurie fucking Strode was not a woman to be trifled with. So when the weird, skinny monster of a killer picked her up and set her on the ground in front of the exit gate, right after the last of her teammates had snuck out, all three survivors still alive, she got to her feet, turned around, and levelled the giant with a flat glare. “What are you trying to pull?” she demanded. 

The weird tree-ghost-thing shrugged, looking meek. He pointed at his mouth, or where it would be, shook his head, and gestured at the exit gate. 

Laurie looked at him. Huh, so he really didn’t have a mouth. Rough bark-like growths covered the area. She hadn’t made a habit of carefully examining killers’ faces, so she hadn’t noticed. 

She went through the exit gate and didn’t mention what had happened to her fellow survivors. It felt like a weird hallucination, but from then on she watched the Wraith carefully when she saw him in trials. Surprisingly, his appearances were rare, and almost always met with a partial or total survivor victory. He only ever hooked one or two survivors per trial, and even then only those that had made mistakes so rookie as to be utterly inexcusable. And it was  _ intentional! _ She had seen him turn away, pretending not to see a survivor sneak past a little too brazenly. 

More than any other killer, he was  _ merciful. _ Laurie didn’t understand. As far as she knew, all the killers were hand-picked to be as brutal and sadistic as possible. Still mulling it over after a trial against the Trapper, far more adherent to expectations than the Wraith, Laurie decided to go for a walk and clear her thoughts. It did no good to be wrapped up in a killer’s thought process when she had better things to do, so she hoped to get over the issue. 

Of course, Laurie fucking Strode wasn’t lucky. As she walked through the woods, having picked a direction at random, she forced herself to think about anything but the ghostly killer or her asshole brother. She was gnawing on her lip, hand clenching and unclenching around a sharpened piece of debris in her pocket, when she smacked straight into something. 

The  _ bing-bong _ of the Wraith’s bell as he materialized was almost worse than the look of shock on his face, mirroring her own.

“Uh… sorry?” she offered, bewildered. She didn’t think killers and survivors were supposed to be able to interact outside of trials. Judging by his expression, he didn’t either. 

He nodded, leaning against a tree. Laurie stared him down, then plopped to the ground. “So… uh… hey, why do you keep sparing survivors?”

She wasn’t expecting him to actually sit down on the ground next to her, looking at the dirt. He tapped her shoulder, gestured at himself, then back to her. He made a broad sweeping motion, then pointed at each of them again. 

It took Laurie a second. “Are you saying… you’re stuck here too?”

He nodded emphatically, making a strange little chirping noise, before beginning to gesture again. He pointed at her head, then her heart, then his own. 

“Uh… we’re… the same?” the blond tried. He gave her a thumbs up. Now that she had actually sat down with him, he wasn’t that scary. He didn’t have the omnipresent malevolence of Laurie’s brother, nor the sadism of the Pig, both of whom  _ looked _ more human than he did. She leaned back against a felled tree, sighing. “Sucks for everyone, huh? The other killers at least seem to enjoy it.” 

The Wraith made a so-so type of gesture. “Oh?” Laurie replied. “I get that they’re forced to be here, they can’t leave, but some of them really do seem to get off on it. Like my asshole brother.”

He looked comically surprised, motioning her to go on.

“Huh, I guess you guys wouldn’t know. Michael is my brother; the one in the mechanic’s jumpsuit. He tried to kill me. I bet he’s revelling in being here, just killing on loop.”

The Wraith shrugged, pointed at himself, and shook his head. He made claws with his hands, mimed snapping them shut, and shook his head again. He repeated the motion with a few more oblique references. 

“So… some of the killers enjoy it, and some don’t?” 

He nodded. He pointed at the center of his forehead, mimed hitting himself, then made an X with his arms. Laurie squinted at him, thinking through the motion. 

“You… tried killing yourself to escape?” At his nod, she continued. “And the Entity won’t let you die?” 

He made an affirmative gesture again. She exhaled raggedly. “I’m sorry, man. This really doesn’t seem like your thing.” 

Laurie couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. He genuinely seemed like he didn’t want to be here, and his actions in the trials reflected that. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned over and gave him a half-hug. He flinched in surprise, then melted into it. The guy was apparently touch starved, because little chirrs and peeps started pouring out of his chest, undoubtedly noises of contentedness. Before either could relax too much, because as much as Laurie wanted to deny it, she needed it too, a distant call interrupted them. 

“Philip! Phi-i-i-ilip!” 

The voice was deep, rough, accented and undeniably masculine. The wraith pointed at himself, then the voice, beginning to pull himself off the ground. 

Laurie couldn’t restrain a snort. “You’re a killer and your name is  _ Philip _ ? Really?”

He nodded, looking mildly affronted, before the voice called again. He made the same bear-trap gesture he had earlier, gesturing in the voice’s direction. Laurie smiled at him. “Go, Philip. It was nice to meet you properly.”

He chirped again, sweeping Laurie into one last hug before leaving. Laurie supposed she’d achieved what she’d set out to do; understand the Wraith’s motivations.

Her walk back to the campfire was markedly more cheerful than her initial path away. She was comforted to know that not all of the killers were insane maniacs, at least.


	2. Rin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, for the purposes of this fic: the entity knows that philip is a soft kind of guy who thrives off of physical contact and emotional intimacy. as a result, he uses contact with others as a sort of carrot for philip. sacrifice x number of survivors, get to see your friends.

Philip crept nervously towards the Yamaoka Estate. He liked Rin, felt bad for her, and tried to visit her when he could. However, it was rare for him to get the opportunity; the Entity seemed to feel it best to keep them apart, he supposed to motivate each of them more. He hadn’t had a chance to go see the girl since the arrival of her ancestor, who he still hadn’t been properly introduced to. He hoped she was coping alright. Philip carried a small chain of wildflowers in his arm, tucked close to his body for protection, as a small gift to the spirit. 

As he came up onto the estate, he heard an earth shaking roar echoing from behind him. Oh, _shit_. He turned around, raising his hands in a universal gesture of _I’m unarmed please don’t wreck my shit_. Of course Rin’s ancestor found him first. The monstrous man lifted his weapon and Philip flinched, terrified, before a flurry of shouting interrupted the two. 

Rin tore out of the house, gesturing angrily and shouting in Japanese at her ancestor, who looked rather abashed. He lowered his weapon, trying to edge a word in over his great-great-granddaughter’s berating. Finally she stopped and huffed a sigh, gesturing at Philip and evidently introducing him. The Oni (Philip felt horribly rude calling him that, but he still didn’t know his proper name) turned to Philip as well. “My name is Yamaoka Kazan. My apologies for my rudeness,” he said. The gigantic man bowed slightly, back perfectly straight. 

Philip nodded. 

Rin took Philip’s hand, said something to her scary great-great-grandfather, and dragged her fellow ghostly killer into the compound of the Yamaoka estate. 

“Sorry about that,” she sighed as she dropped to sit on the tatami floor. “He is… bizarre. I don’t really understand him. He seems to… feel some kind of responsibility for me.”

Philip nodded at her, making a sweeping gesture, then a thumbs-up, followed by a shrug. 

“How’s everything going with him?” Rin confirmed, then answered. “I don’t know. He’s so overbearing. He wants to…I don’t know, be my grandpa, and I’ve never met him before coming here. He has this weird thing about honor… I just don’t know. It’s exhausting. He…” Rin trailed off. 

Philip offered her the forgotten daisy chain in his hand. She smiled and took it, settling it around her neck. He patted her head with one rough hand. He wished he could offer the poor girl something more than lukewarm support, but without the ability to speak he was out of luck. She was so young, barely more than a child, and Philip worried for her. She should be out with friends, meeting people, partying-- not killing people. He held his arms open and she hugged him, burying her face in his shroud. 

Philip was the kind of man who gave _ideal_ hugs. He was warm, nonjudgmental, broad enough to be comfortingly protective without being overbearing, never held too tight; he was so desperate for affection of his own he wouldn’t dream of jeopardizing what he did receive. Since he only rarely got to see the more friendly killers, he savored the contact he got with hugs and cuddles to fill the void until next time. 

Rin, for her part, needed the positive contact just as much as Philip did. The ghostly man had become something akin to a brother or uncle to her over the course of her time in the Entity’s realm; he was one of the first to welcome her here and his regular visits helped her keep a hold on her lingering humanity. 

That was probably why he didn’t get to visit very often. 

Rin sniffled, burrowing her face deeper in his shroud, trying not to think about it. She also pointedly didn’t think about what she had almost said, before; that Kazan reminded her of her father. It was too much for the girl to process. Philip stroked her hair gently, making little crooning chirps in her ear. It was such a quintessentially _Philip_ noise, all wordless support and empathy and kindness that Rin burst into tears. 

He patted her back, letting her cry. He often felt like crying, felt like it nigh on every trial he was in, but he wasn’t sure he physically _could_ anymore. The Entity’s alterations to his body were vast and dramatic and more than a little scary, even to Philip himself. He hated that the Entity had taken his voice, his humanity; he didn’t speak any of it aloud, being akin to blasphemy as it was, but he thought it often. Philip was glad that Rin, despite being a ghost, despite being in constant pain, was allowed to cry.

She was just a child. She deserved to be able to cry. 

Gradually, Rin’s sobs wound down. She took deep breaths until she pulled away, smiling weakly. “Thank you, Philip.”

He shook his head, making a happy little noise, before gesturing for Rin to turn around. She did as asked, and Philip settled on his knees behind her. He ran fingers through her ghostly hair, smoothing it and neatening it, before beginning to braid it. 

Philip braided Rin’s hair with as much delicacy and familial affection as he could muster; she ended up with two low plaits, tight enough to look tidy and smart but loose enough to avoid putting pressure on her scalp. Philip was meticulous in his work, slim fingers careful with each twist of hair. The whole process took awhile, but exactly how long neither could say. Philip zoned out, relaxing into the methodical, mechanical motions, and Rin enjoyed his gentle touch on her scalp. He used small scraps of fabric from his shroud to tie off each braid, patting her head when he finished. Rin smiled at him, running fingers over one braid. 

“How do I look?”

He gave an exaggerated thumbs up, pretending to faint. She laughed, so he counted it as a win, even despite the light kick she gave his prone form. “Get up, you weirdo,” she snickered.

Philip looked up at her, shook his head, and flopped back down. Rin rolled her eyes, nudging him again. 

Unbeknownst to either, Kazan was watching from the door. He supposed he approved of his descendant’s company, however bizarre he was. He was at least kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to request characters who u wanna see philip hang out with!!


	3. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i painted a boyo.. .....

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me requests for the next chapter ok

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or perish by my hand


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